Renewal
by Wannabe Darklord
Summary: Ten, during his goodbyes, goes to see the Face die, but stays too long to finish the rest. Thankfully, there is someone there to prevent his death. Ten/Jack.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Doctor Who. Written for fun, not profit!

**A/N:** _Written for the wintercompanion comm on LJ, for their 2010 Doctor/Jack fest. I'm perpetually lazy, so I haven't posted this here until now. Hope you enjoy!_

It was a bad idea. A bad idea all around, but the Doctor found he couldn't bring himself to care very much. These were _his_last moments and this regeneration had been all about bad ideas, even though he was trying to (pitifully) correct some of them now. There simply wasn't enough time to do so, however, and besides, he was doing this more for himself than anything.

And if this regeneration had been about bad ideas, then it had also been about curiosity. This was one puzzle he couldn't bear let one of his other selves solve. He wanted it to be _his_discovery. One last thread to untangle from the mysterious mess his life had become.

So he gathered his strength through the pain of the radiation and his impending regeneration and set in the coordinates for a time and place where he'd already been, where there was a chance he would meet himself and muck up the timelines. Somehow the possibility didn't seem all that very important now.

Each step out of the TARDIS was a painful study in precision and sheer willpower not to collapse to the ground and curl up in agony. He ignored his shaking limbs and walked into the murky Senate of New New York, driving himself forwards to see the final moments of the Face of Boe(again). He imagined he would be able to feel this time if it really was Jack and he had to know, had to find out if his friend (not that the Doctor deserved the title) would finally see an end to his long, long life.

He ignored the burning in his limbs and chest and simply watched the scene unfold before him. It was odd seeing everything from this perspective, especially that look of shock and even fear on his own face when he heard the Face of Boe's final words. He wondered what would have happened if he'd understood what they'd meant sooner. When his chest tightened and his breath caught (not all due to the pain of holding back the regeneration), he pushed those thoughts aside. It was far too late to wonder about might-have-beens.

He watched himself and Martha leave and eyed the remaining figure of Novice Hame. He willed her to leave as well. He didn't know why exactly, but he wanted to get closer, to see his old friend one more time. Surprisingly, she did leave soon after. Probably to make further arrangements. Itdidn't matter. He had a chance now.

As he neared the Face of Boe, he studied him. It was hard to believe that this might have once been Jack. He still wasn't completely sure how that was possible or if it even was. He hadn't sensed anything like Jack's Factness this time either, although his senses might have been clouded by the process his body was trying to go through and which he was merely delaying. Uselessly, childishly clinging to a familiar form, afraid of what came after.

His old friend's features were peaceful and still. The Doctor waited, looking for a sign, anything. When nothing happened, he felt an irrational urge to strike out at the figure. He wanted to scream and shout and yell and when he fell to the floor beside the Face of Boe when his legs refused to support him anymore, he realized that all he really wanted was for someone, anyone to be beside him while he went through his change, to not be so alone and to not be so afraid.

His breath was coming in short, stabbing gasps and he felt the sting of tears behind his closed eyelids and _it hurt, it hurt, it hurt, oh God (never__Rassilon__, not ever, not after the War) it hurt.._.He curled up in on himself, dimly realizing that he'd left it too long. There was no way he was going to make it to the TARDIS now before he regenerated. He could already feel the golden light burning his eyes, even though they were closed.

There was a touch on his arm and his eyes flew open in surprise. Staring back at him was Jack. Not the Jack he'd left in a bar somewhere in the future, but a Jack from the here and now, a Jack who'd been alive for billions of years. It was far longer than any human should ever have lived and it was completely wrong, but all the Doctor could feel at this moment was a heart-wrenching sense of relief.

"I don't want to go," he managed to gasp out, uncaring that he was actually crying, tears running down his cheeks. He was shaking.

Jack looked at him with such tenderness that it made him both want to turn away and just fling himself at Jack. He didn't deserve such devotion, definitely not from Jack. But all he could think about was that Jack cared, Jack was here and he wasn't going to leave him, even if some small part of the Doctor was aware he would probably die again if he got caught up in the regeneration energy. Jack reached out and cupped his cheek and if he hadn't already been crying, the Doctor thought he would have broken then at the loving touch.

_Then don't._

It took him a moment to realize the voice was in his head, a strange telepathic mixture of the Jack he'd known and Jack as he was now. He had little time to process this through the pain and the fear, because suddenly, warm lips were covering his own and something was pouring into him (draining out of him?). The pain receded, but a light was growing behind his eyes and he couldn't focus, couldn't think and everything was too much, too intense -

The last thing he became aware of before sinking into the light was the sensation of being lifted into a pair of strong arms and of finally being safe.

**xxx**

When he awoke, it was a slow climb back from the darkness of sleep. That was new. The rare times he actually fell asleep, waking up was usually an unpleasant jolt to full awareness, his ears ringing with the screams of his nightmares. Now, he was only vaguely aware of anything other than being warm and comfortable. His whole body pleasantly ached, a tingling sensation he only got after a good, long, adrenaline filled run. He sighed, snuggling (not that he'd ever admit it) closer to the warm body lying next to him.

He paused, brow furrowing in confusion. Something about this wasn't right. Unwilling to open his eyes just yet, he reached out with a hand blindly, only to encounter a living body and the pleasant sensation of a telepathic chuckle rolling through his mind. He frowned and opened his eyes.

Jack's familiar face stared back, deep blue eyes sparkling with amusement and a soft smile on his lips. The Doctor was about to ask him what he was doing in his bed when the memories of the past day crashed down on him. But they weren't as painful as they could have been; they felt hazy and dim through the remembered feel of that golden light coursing through him.

"Oh," was all he managed to say, still blinking at Jack in slight confusion. Jack's smile widened.

_Good morning._

The Doctor smiled back, but his thoughts were soon racing again. What had happened? Had he regenerated? He didn't feel different and there was none of the accompanying sickness the Doctor had come to expect from his regenerations. Where was he? What was Jack still doing here? How had he not regenerated? How was Jack all Jack-like and not Face of Boe-like? What-?

His musings were cut off with the rising awareness that Jack was laughing at him. Telepathically laughing at him. He shot Jack a disgruntled look, but couldn't even hold on to the pretense of the emotion. He sat up and looked at his hands. Same hands. He ran his hands through his hair. Same wild mop. Same teeth.

"I haven't changed," he said aloud, to make it a fact, to make it _real_. "How?"

_I stopped it._

At the Doctor's incredulous look, Jack winked.

_You learn a few tricks when you get to be as old as me. And as good looking. Though you could give me a run for my money._

The Doctor finally spluttered out a laugh, amazed and delighted that even at 5 billion years (give or take) of age, Jack never changed, not where it mattered. It took him a moment to realize that his laughter had degenerated into sobbing as the events of the past few days (years) finally caught up with him. He was more grateful than he could say when Jack reached up to hold him, not saying anything, not demanding explanations, just holding him and letting him vent.

It was such a relief to finally let go, to trust that Jack would be able to catch him, to even _have_someone he could trust like that.

He found himself gasping out to Jack a fractured telling of everything that had happened, everything which had made a small part of him whisper that it might not have been so bad to die a final death. From the Daleks, to Donna, to Adelaide, to the Master, to Rassilon and the Time Lords, to the War and to sweet, kind old Wilf, who hadn't deserved his tantrum in the slightest. Throughout it all, Jack simply held him and ran a reassuring hand through his undoubtedly disheveled hair. Jack didn't say a word, but the mental presence humming in the back of the Doctor's mind was so very comforting for someone so starved for telepathic contact.

The TARDIS did her best, but she alone couldn't compensate for the billions of voices that had once filled his head. He reached out for her presence as well and was rewarded with her song. She was glad and relieved that her Time Lord's distress through these past few months was nearing an end.

Finally, finally, the tears ran out and the Doctor simply sagged against Jack. He closed his eyes as Jack continued to pet him. A feeling of contentment crept over him and he burrowed slightly into Jack's warmth. It was a bit odd, he mused vaguely. That feeling of Wrongness that emanated so strongly from Jack of the past wasn't present in this one. If the Doctor concentrated, he could feel his Factness, but there was none of that horrible, gut wrenching nausea to contend with. Well, to be honest, he'd stopped feeling most of it in Jack of the past during the year on the Valiant, but that was more through him finally being able to filter it out as a background noise rather than any actual diminishment of the feeling. It seemed like this Jack was more integrated into the universe. He had an odd mental picture of the universe and Jack butting heads over whether he belonged and Jack winning through sheer stubbornness. He had to stifle a giggle.

_Better?_

The Doctor was about to rattle off his usual answer to that - he was always all right - when he realized that he really _did_feel better. He made a small noise of surprise.

"Yes, actually. Thank you." For so many things, not least of which was giving him a second chance at this life. He didn't think he could ever adequately express his gratitude and only hoped Jack could feel it; it wasn't was though he had any sort of mental shields up at the moment.

_Anytime, Doc_.

Jack's mental voice had turned cheeky at that last, but the Doctor could tell he understood.

"Stop it, Jack," the Doctor muttered, feeling inexplicably tired. He supposed he wasn't quite over the stress of not regenerating or his emotional breakdown.

There was a sharp stab of shock from Jack at his words, but he couldn't really fathom why. It wasn't anything he hadn't said before to Jack. And right now, he didn't feel up to investigating that particular mystery. He yawned and another deep, mental chuckle rolled over him, the shock from before quickly fading. He was carefully set down on the bed and Jack made to pull away. The Doctor made a noise of protest and hung on.

"Stay."

Amusement, tenderness and love washed over him as he was pulled lie on Jack's chest, strong arms encircling him. The Doctor felt a spark of annoyance, but the far greater part of him was all to happy to be right where he was. In the end, he couldn't bring himself to complain about it and once more drifted off to sleep.

**Xxx**

The second time he awoke, he became aware much more quickly. But it still wasn't anything like those horrible jolts to consciousness like before, so he took a while to wallow in that soft, fuzzy feeling you could get only when you knew there was nothing urgent to get to and the bed was so warm and cozy. Still, he was never one to lie still for long and he soon stretched languorously and blinked up at the walls of his room. Jack was nowhere to be seen, but the Doctor knew he was still on the TARDIS. The mental signature of a creature so old was rather hard to miss. And Jack seemed absolutely overjoyed at something, broadcasting it for anyone in the TARDIS to hear.

Smiling at the echo of Jack's feelings and the TARDIS' own amusement at it, the Doctor swung his legs out of bed, intending to find him. Then he looked down and realized he was still wearing his ripped shirt and trousers; the jacket, tie and trainers lying discarded on the floor nearby. He pulled a face, grimacing. Shower first, he decided. And then he'd burn this particular suit and all the remainders of that hellish day it carried. Good thing he had dozens more like it in the closet; he really liked that suit.

He stood up, amazed at just how energetic he felt. He hadn't been this eager to start a new day for months. Ever since he'd lost Donna if he was honest with himself. Thinking of Donna and the still painful memories, he realized he should probably see Wilf at some point. The man shouldn't have to live with the worry that he'd caused his death, especially now that it hadn't happened. He pushed those thoughts out of his mind for now. First, he wanted to wash away any remnants of that radiation, his fall and the near regeneration. Possibly more than once.

Shortly after, feeling blissfully clean and decidedly hungry, the Doctor made his way to the kitchen. The closer he got, the more he could feel Jack's joy at something. Curious, he sped up slightly only to have his jaw drop at the display before him. He didn't know whether to laugh or join in.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Jack was stuffing his face with jam covered toast one moment, the next he was taking a bite of some leftover cake the Doctor'd stashed in the fridge, then he was taking large gulps of tea, then shoving a piece of bacon in his mouth and all the while his mental presence made it seem like he was eating the richest delicacies he'd ever tasted. That, or a kid in a candy store. And that was almost nothing compared to the small stack of already empty plates and the array of food still laid out before him.

_Food! Real, proper food! I haven't actually been able to eat for a few billion years! Hard to digest stuff with no stomach._

For instances like this, where one's mouth was far too occupied with chewing, telepathy was a very useful thing. The Doctor grinned at him.

"Keep that up and you'll also rediscover the joys of it all coming back out."

Jack only returned his grin, his cheeks practically bulging with food, reminding the Doctor of an overgrown chipmunk. The Doctor 'tsked' and then laughed.

"Slow down, Jack. The food isn't going anywhere."

You're _telling_ me _to slow down?_

A teasing glint was back in Jack's eyes, but he nevertheless began to eat at a more leisurely pace. The Doctor huffed in mock annoyance.

"First time for everything, you know."

He sat down at the table, pulling a plate of toast over and pouring himself a cup of tea. He then happily engaged in his own, slightly more restrained, version of stuffing his face. After a moment, he became aware of Jack watching him.

"What?" he swallowed. Jack's grin was warm as he shook his head.

_Nothing. I'__ve__just missed this you._

The mood in the kitchen grew more somber and the Doctor slowly put his cup down with a small click, eyes firmly on Jack.

"I'm surprised you even remember this me. How many me's have you known?"

It wasn't _exactly_breaking the rules to ask this and he was far too curious not to.

_All the way to the end._

There was a hint of remembered sadness in Jack's tone. The Doctor swallowed thickly. He didn't quite know what to say. A type of morbid curiosity spurred him to ask,

"Are you there? At the end?"

Jack studied him for a long, long moment. Finally, he nodded.

_Yeah._

A part of him wanted to ask more, wanted to know everything, how, when, where and why, but he knew _that_would be crossing a line. And a greater part of him didn't _need_to know, not anymore.

"I'm glad."

At Jack's look, he elaborated,

"That you'll be there. I'm glad."

Jack's answering smile was sweet, even through the lingering sadness. He reached out across the table and clasped the Doctor's hand. The Doctor could feel his quiet pleasure at being able to do so and so he squeezed back.

_I__wouldn__'t have wanted to be anywhere else. And it was...it was good. A long time from now. You'__ve__got_so _much more left to do._

Jack's words were reassuring. For all that he didn't want to die _now_, it was a relief to know that some day it _would_end. He wasn't meant to live forever; he doubted he would be able to handle it as well as Jack could. In fact, he _knew_he couldn't. But that didn't mean he wanted to waste the years he had.

"_Thank you,"_he said sincerely, letting his mind shine with it. There was something else, however, that he was dying to know.

"But there is one very important question I need answered."

The Doctor paused, letting the tension rise. Jack turned serious as well, leaning forward.

"Do I ever become ginger?"

There was a stunned silence before Jack leaned back and let out a bellow of laughter. It wasn't just mental this time; Jack's whole body shook with the force of his laughs. The Doctor pouted, but couldn't hide his own amusement. He soon found himself grinning and then laughing with Jack.

When their laughter subsided, Jack seemed a little surprised that he had actually made a noise.

"Oh, wow," Jack said slowly, as though he was remembering how to speak. He probably was.

"I haven't actually said anything in _ages_."

"More than one, I'd assume," the Doctor leaned closer, curious.

"What's it like? I can't imagine what it must be like to be a disembodied head for so long and then suddenly find yourself back in a fully functional body."

He also wanted to know how it was even possible, but if there was one thing he'd learned, Jack considered the possible to be more like guidelines anyway. Very loose guidelines he took great pleasure in thwarting at every turn.

"It's a bit...odd," now that he seemed to be aware he wasn't just a head anymore, Jack's movements looked a bit stilted. Like he had suddenly became aware he didn't quite remember which muscles he needed to move to make which expression.

"But _damn_, does it feel good," he grinned and it seemed more natural now. He stretched slowly and the Doctor could feel the simple pleasure he took in the motion and his ability to even do it.

"Five billion years old and you still feel the need to swear," the Doctor teased, "Don't you ever change?"

"Do you want me to?" this was said with a slow, saucy smirk that only Jack could ever pull off. It was a little rusty, but it was there.

"No," the Doctor blurted out before he was quite aware of what he was saying. He felt mortified at first, but when he saw the pleased and surprised grin on Jack's face, he plowed ahead, "Don't _ever_change, Jack."

Not in the ways that mattered at least. Not in his loyalty and caring and love and everything that made Jack _Jack_and the living impossibility that he was.

Jack was probably all too aware of the slightly desperate edge his words had had, but thankfully chose not to comment. They were silent for a moment as they simply looked at one another, their minds quietly touching with the ease of old friends (never mind that the Doctor hadn't had such contact in years and never with Jack before this).

Jack had a mischievous look on his face when he spoke next, the reflection of it in his mind sending playful sparks down the Doctor's own. Somehow, the Doctor knew what was coming.

"In that case, how about you help me rediscover the joys of being fully...functional?" Jack said each and every word with slow, deliberate relish, enjoying the way the Doctor's eyes widened and the way he blushed.

"I didn't mean - that's...Jack-" the Doctor stammered, "I haven't done anything like that in _years_." He hadn't wanted to really, but this was _Jack_. And something about Jack made every sentient being around him unable to say no. He'd always felt that pull, but it had never seemed right to give in before. Not the right time, or the right place. Now he felt like he had nothing but time. And he was admittedly very curious about what it'd be like. Typical of Jack as well for his first thoughts after getting his body back to be to re-experience all of the pleasure he had taken in it before. Not that that was a bad thing, necessarily.

"Neither have I," Jack said and there was a glint in his eye that meant he knew he was winning and had probably caught the gist of the Doctor's thoughts. He reached out and took hold of the Doctor's hand again, lightly stroking the back of it with his thumb. The Doctor's breath caught in his throat. He became hyper-aware of the contact between Jack's skin and his.

"How about we relearn together?" Jack said softly, voice low and husky. For not having done this in billions of years, he really was far too good at this. The Doctor gulped and managed to meet Jack's eyes. He knew that if he said no, Jack wouldn't push anymore. That knowledge loosened something in him and gave him the courage to lean over and meet Jack in a kiss.

The jolt that went through him when their lips met was completely unexpected. Kissing someone who hadn't pounced on you was a very different experience from kissing someone who did. And this was Jack, which made it even better, though he wasn't completely sure why. He pressed closer, wanting more.

He moaned when a tentative hand reached for his hair, becoming surer as it slipped through the strands, pulling him closer. The Doctor slid out of his chair and moved closer to Jack, cupping his face without breaking the kiss. He let a shiver of amusement run through him when he realized Jack tasted like the jam he'd been eating.

He leaned back to catch his breath, smiling when he met Jack's eyes. Jack smiled back and drew him in for another slow kiss. It felt good. It felt very, very good. He was feeling a bit unsure how to proceed when Jack flicked his tongue out. Oh yes, now he remembered. He opened his mouth, letting Jack in, groaning a little at the sensation. This felt even better.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this again," Jack whispered before catching his lips again. All the Doctor could do was hum in agreement, his thoughts already whirling with the pleasant physical responses his body was going through.

"Let's take this to the bedroom. I don't fancy getting food stains on my pants. Or breaking the cutlery. Very rare plates, those, given to me by the King of Ambertide."

Jack huffed an amused laugh and they rose to leave the kitchen. But not before they shared another deep kiss, this time both of their bodies pressing together as close as they could get.

The Doctor's mouth opened in an 'o' of surprise when he pressed against Jack, only feeling a flicker of smug delight when Jack's breath hitched as well and a groan escaped his throat. They clutched at one another, neither willing to let go long enough to get to the bedroom.

There was a faint purr of amusement in the back of his mind and the Doctor opened glazed eyes to meet an equally glazed gaze.

"My ship is laughing at me," he mumbled, inhaling Jack's scent. He practically purred himself when Jack put a hand to the back of his neck and started kneading.

_Bed._

Even though the communication was telepathic, it still had an air of breathlessness. The Doctor wanted to laugh, but he was far too preoccupied by nibbling on Jack's throat. He knew they should move, but the flesh of Jack's neck was right there and it looked very inviting. And the strangled noise Jack made was rather satisfying.

Just as Jack reached to pull him even closer, the Doctor pulled away with a laugh. His whole body and mind were tingling from the sensations running through him and he smiled at Jack.

"Bed," he agreed, pulling Jack along.

This time, they managed to get to the door of his bedroom before they reached for one another again, unable to stay apart for too long. The Doctor almost stumbled when Jack kissed him again. He enthusiastically reciprocated. Then, with a sly grin, Jack pushed him backwards. With an unmanly squeak that he would never admit to making, the Doctor tumbled to the bed. He'd managed to keep a hold on Jack, however, and pulled him along as well. His smug grin at Jack's surprise was abruptly cut off when Jack fell over him, their hips flush against each other.

The Doctor spread his legs to better accommodate Jack, gasping when that pressed them even closer. Jack's face was buried in his shoulder, his whole body trembling. The Doctor knew how he felt. It had been years for him, but how much longer had it been for Jack, for Jack to be even able to do this? Probably more years than the Doctor had been alive. And it was both humbling and gratifying that Jack would choose to do so with him.

_Oh God, Doctor._

Jack's mental voice was very shaky.

"It's all right," the Doctor murmured, running his lips over Jack's face, leaving soft kisses, trailing after his lips with his fingers. His own voice was unsteady as well. He ran a soothing hand through Jack's hair with his other hand.

"My Jack."

He raised Jack's head to pull him in for a kiss. Jack was tense at first, but he gradually relaxed into it, his mental presence settling in the Doctor's head like a warm blanket. It felt strange to the Doctor being the one calming and reassuring Jack. Jack of the past was so very confident in everything that he did, that it was odd to see him falter now. But of course, there were billions of years of difference between this Jack and that. It gave the Doctor a bit of confidence to know that even Jack could get flustered by this.

All thoughts flew out of his head a moment later when Jack moved against him. He clutched at Jack for purchase, groaning at the delicious sensation, his mind sparking with Jack's answering amusement and lust. He ran a hand over Jack's back and felt frustrated that his fingers met cloth instead of skin.

"Clothes off, _now_!"

He pulled at Jack's shirt impatiently.

_Yes, sir._

The Doctor grinned at Jack's arousal at his commanding tone, feeling it both physically and mentally.

Jack pulled back just enough to pull his shirt over his head before he returned. The Doctor sighed happily at the feel of soft skin at his fingertips. His hand trailed lower along Jack's spine until he slipped his hand into Jack's pants. He grinned and then gasped at the feeling of Jack's hard length brushing his own when Jack rocked in surprise. He kneaded the firm flesh of Jack's bottom before he pulled him closer once more and lifted his own hips, grinding. They met again in a messy kiss, Jack's hand sneaking under his own shirt.

The Doctor batted his hands away, ignoring the momentary rejection Jack let slip. He quickly made short work of his shirt, trousers and pants and rolled Jack over to divest him of his.

Finally, they were both skin on skin. The Doctor moaned shamelessly, the noise muffled when Jack kissed him deeply once more. They gently rocked against each other and the Doctor felt sparks of pleasure shoot up his spine when they moved, hands roaming, caressing and exploring. He could barely imagine anything feeling better than this.

He was proven wrong when Jack reached between them and grabbed hold of both of them, gently squeezing. The Doctor's hips stuttered and he gasped into Jack's mouth. He opened his eyes, needing to see Jack and his expression.

Jack's hair was wonderfully mused, his pupils were completely dilated and his mouth was nicely swollen from their kisses. The Doctor imagined hedidn't look any different, except with maybe wilder hair.

"Hello," Jack said, that wonderfully familiar cheeky grin on his face, his eyes dark with want. The Doctor slowly slid his hand up to rub his thumb against the hollow of Jack's throat, smiling back.

"Hello."

Jack reached up for another kiss and the Doctor gladly obliged, moving his hips at the same time. Then he stilled and broke the kiss. He took a moment just to rest his forehead against Jack's, the hand that had been at his throat now cupping his cheek. Jack tolerated this with something approaching amusement; the Doctor could feel it swirling in the back of his own mind.

He focused on that feeling, drawing Jack in, inviting him. He let whatever flimsy barriers he'd had fall down so he could in turn fall into Jack completely. This somehow felt more intimate than anything they'd done so far. He could _feel_Jack, everything Jack was and it was terrifying. Beautiful and terrifying and so very old and he thought he could lose himself in just how old and (almost) beyond his reach Jack was. It was like looking into the heart of a planet or sun and understanding how eternal they were compared to you. The Doctor wondered if anyone had ever seen _him_in this way. If they had, it was no wonder they burned when they got near him. No wonder they didn't _care_. And he revelled in the feeling and almost drowned in it when he was caught gently within Jack's presence. He basked in Jack's glow and realized for all that Jack had changed, he was still so very, very human where it mattered.

_Wow._

It was the only coherent thought the Doctor could pick up and he wasn't even sure to whom it belonged. They moved through each other's minds, almost unaware of how hard they were panting, how hard their hearts were beating, only aware of their mental presences and the pleasure it brought them.

Jack kissed him again and the sensation was multiplied a hundred fold with Jack's pleasure in the mix. It was overwhelming and too much to bear. They pulled back slightly, both mentally and physically, and when next they kissed, it was a gentler, easier, but far more satisfying connection.

The Doctor didn't resist when Jack rolled them over again, being far too occupied with mapping out Jack's mouth with his tongue. Connected as they were, he didn't need to. What Jack wanted, he wanted and vice versa, their desires and thoughts blending together. After all, what was there to complain about when everything felt so marvelous?

He felt Jack's hand trail lower and lower and he shivered in anticipation, both his and Jack's. Then there was pressure against his opening and he spread his legs so Jack could reach better. He reached out a hand for the bedside table, fumbling for a moment and feeling intensely grateful to his ship when he found what he wanted with little trouble. He pressed the lubricant into Jack's hands, guiding him again when he faltered slightly.

Jack soon found his rhythm and continued exploring that delightful place inside him. And oh! the Doctor bucked up, grabbing at Jack, who had brilliant, _fantastic_fingers. Jack's smirk, more felt than seen was cut off when the Doctor pulled him closer, drawing him into another desperate kiss.

_Get on with i-_

The thought was cut off because Jack had certainly gotten on with it. The Doctor's eyes flew wide open and he stared unseeingly at the ceiling, only aware of _Jack_and the pressure inside him as Jack slowly entered him and how absolutely amazing it all felt. It felt far too good to last, especially since it had been such a long time since either of them had done this. But they would make the most of it.

He hitched his legs around Jack's waist and pushed him closer, almost screaming with how good it was. Jack was in a similar state, panting, trying to gather himself together enough so he could last a little longer.

_Move_, the Doctor ordered. And Jack did. His first few thrusts were uncertain but he soon smoothed out, driving into the Doctor with a single minded determination.

Their minds mingled, blurred, their names (_JackDoctor_) running together between them as they moved, lost in everything but this moment. The Doctor could feel his orgasm building, that knot of tension in his spine and mind and whole body and he could feel Jack too, feel all his love and caring and the sheer, utter pleasure of this moment and he was sure Jack could feel the same from him.

The Doctor pulled Jack in for another kiss just as he felt the wave crest over him and he clung to Jack, riding it out. The telepathic connection meant Jack went over with him and they both came to a trembling halt, absolutely drained. Both of them were shaking from the almost forgotten sensations.

Even so, the Doctor knew he had a soppy grin on his face. This had been wonderful and he never wanted this hazy blissful feeling to end. He ran a hand down Jack's back, soothing the tremors, trying to still his own shaking limbs. He also reached out with his mind, gently caressing the surface of Jack's thoughts. It was nice, relaxing.

It was a few long minutes before Jack lifted his head from where it had been buried in the Doctor's shoulder. They shared a smile and a gentle kiss.  
><em><br>__Thank you_.

"Any time," the Doctor murmured against Jack's lips. "No really, if it keeps feeling like that, any time. Unless we're running for our lives, of course. Or eating. Oh! Or if we're on Delta Two Beta, they have odd ideas about procreat-"

The Doctor gladly shut up when Jack kissed him again, feeling Jack's mental laughter all the while. He let his own amusement entwine with Jack's.

"Congratulations, Jack. I think you've just discovered the best way to shut me up," he said the moment he could breathe again. Jack's head fell back to his shoulder as he started laughing again and the Doctor groaned at the sensation. Jack was still in him and he could feel every vibration.

He hitched himself closer to Jack and squeezed his muscles, grinning at the strangled groan Jack gave and the twitching inside him. When Jack lifted his head to look up at him, eyes shining with lust and good-natured humour, his grin widened.

_Again?_

There was a world of anticipation in the thought.

"Thought you'd never ask," the Doctor said and pulled him closer.

**xxx**

It was the third time he awoke that day (really, it was getting a bit ridiculous how much he'd slept already), but he felt absolutely no need to rush off anywhere (another small miracle). His whole body pleasantly ached and he smiled sleepily when he remembered why.

The deep chuckle coming from the chest he was lying on made him grumble and smack it lightly. It was nice to know Jack agreed with him, but that meant his comfortable resting place was being disturbed.

"Hush now, there's a good pillow."

If anything, it made Jack laugh harder. The Doctor pouted and stretched, almost purring when Jack rubbed a hand down his spine. He finally opened his eyes, blinking up at Jack.

"Morning."

It didn't really matter if it really was or not. Time on the TARDIS was undefined and wonderful like that.  
><em><br>__Morning._

Jack reached out to run his hand through the Doctor's hair. The Doctor closed his eyes in pleasure. When he opened them again, he caught sadness in Jack's eyes and expression, mingled with such caring that it almost made him want to turn and run. Almost. He felt like something had unwound in him this past day and not just because of the fantastic sex (though it had certainly helped).

He sat up and took Jack's hand in his, frowning.

"What's wrong?"  
><em><br>__I have to go. And so do you. All those wonderful adventures waiting for you, remember?_

The Doctor's hearts ached with the sadness in Jack's realization (or rather reminder) that he couldn't share those adventures with him now because he had already shared them a long time ago.

And despite the fact that he had expected something like this, he still wasn't prepared for the absolute panic that ran through him at the thought. Swallowing, he managed to compose himself. He knew just as well as Jack that this Jack couldn't stay with him for long. But that didn't mean he had to leave _yet_. He could give this Jack a few more adventures with him.

"You don't have to go. Not yet. Stay," he licked his lips nervously, "please. At least until you get the hang of being Jack again."

He twined his fingers with Jack's, silently imploring him.

_Will it change anything if I go with you now? The future? Your future?_

He could feel the fear in the words, the absolute certainty that Jack would not let such a thing happen, even if he had to give up this chance. The Doctor smiled and squeezed Jack's hand.

"Unless you know for an absolute certainty that I never traveled with this you, then no. And I highly doubt you knew where I was every moment in your past. For all you know, I might have been visiting here with you while I was away."

Right now, the thought held a certain appeal. Get the best of both worlds and visit this Jack when his long years caught up with him.

The wave of relief that washed over Jack at this point wasn't unexpected, but Jack pulling him down into a desperate kiss was. After the first startled moment, the Doctor kissed back, gentling it slightly.  
><em><br>__Good. Because I don't want it to change. Don't you dare try to change it. Not one line._

The familiar sentiment stabbed at his hearts (another reminder of someone he would lose one day), but he ignored the pain, wordlessly agreeing. Again, he felt humbled by Jack. Jack had lived so much longer and lost so much more than the Doctor would ever gain, but he was still reaching out, still loving people, still losing them. He was so much braver than the Doctor would ever be. But perhaps now, with this second chance so fresh, he could change that. Reach out where he'd once been afraid to (and still was).

"That mean you're coming?" he asked once they broke their kiss, but hadn't pulled away, enjoying their closeness.

"Just try and stop me," Jack said and kissed him again.

He'd been wrong, the Doctor decided. Coming to see the Face of Boe one more time had been a _brilliant_ idea.

**END**


End file.
